Lust A Prima Vista
by riesling
Summary: It started as a story told to her each night before she fell asleep. Even as her life fell apart around her and she'd nearly given up on fairy tales completely, prince charming always seemed able to find a way to let himself in. Revised CH 2; CH 6 posted!
1. Our Last Night

**Our Last Night**

**Disclaimer: **Everything you love about this story isn't mine… but I'm going to keep writing anyway in hopes that you'll like the tales I weave as much as the characters that make them. Oh, and the parts of this that Mr. Evans is going to be 'reading' to the girls… yeah, that's straight out of my own copy of Grimm's Fairy Tales. But it's ok to use it – publishing laws only protect for 100 years or so, and I'm giving due credit. If you're curious, I'd be happy to send you the link for all the legal documents that state I'm still in the right. However, I hope you'll give me a break, it was just the first two paragraphs of the fairy tale and they made for such an adorable little opening… don't you agree?

**Author's Note:** It's not as though I needed to branch out into another genre. Keep in mind this is my first try so please play nice with the review button, yes? Also, the first chapter starts out a bit slow. Stick with it, loves; I promise this story will be lovely.

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She'd never noticed how well she could remember even the smallest details until many years later; it was the way that her father had looked at her when he read her the story, so familiar. She had been nothing more than a small child with fly-away strands of hair falling apart from long auburn plaits that fell past her shoulders and an ample sprinkling of delicate freckles across her nose… she was still only a little girl when that story was read to her so often. Her father, as smart as anyone she'd ever known and tall and merry and absolutely wonderful; he'd sit on the edge of her bed, right beside her, and wrap his arms around her while she rested her head against his chest. And he would hold the book in front of them both as he read the story so that his lovely golden-haired daughter could see the black and white script, though she was no less capable of reading it without him by her side.

Lily had heard the story so many times that she could have told it completely from her memory. It had always been a favorite bedtime story of hers when she had been younger.

There seemed a magical way that, even now, the story was somehow able to bring her back to the happier times of her childhood. Not that Lily had had an unhappy childhood; it wasn't by any stretch of the truth that such a statement could even be considered when one thought of her upbringing… but when their father had read the story to the both of his lovely young daughters it was during a time that Lily's older sister, Petunia, had still been her best friend. In those days they had shared a room; two twin beds separated by a small table with a lamp in between. Pentunia's toys were stored in a special box at the end of her bed and Lily had one of her own; though it was the way of the world that the vibrant young red-head was more interested in the treasures that were her sister's than those that were her own.

Sadly enough, it was the last night that she'd shared that room with Petunia that their father's bed-night story to his daughters seemed to be the most vivid in Lily's mind. It was the night before she'd received her letter from Hogwarts and only the seventh night in a row that both of the girls had requested for their father to tell them a bedtime story. You see, he'd not been asked for such trivial things from his daughters as bed-night stories in a rather long time. But it was in that same year that a rather terrible string of storms loomed constantly over Surrey, where the Evans family had made their home. So it was to ease his daughters' troubled minds that he agreed to grant their requests to be told a story to help them fall asleep.

"Oh, Lily, dear," Mr. Evans smiled as he took the book that she had offered to him. It was bound in a hard cover, purple, and the spine had definitely seen its better days. But one ought to suppose that it was the wear of love, rather than a lack of care, that had brought the familiar book to its current condition. Their father smiled as he shifted his weight so that both Lily and Petunia, who had moved over to Lily's bed from her own, could be near enough to see the words on the page if she so chose. His voice was somewhat nostalgic when he finally continued, "This book was rather your favorite, loves, when you were both little girls."

"It was only Lily's favorite, father!" Petunia protested, settling comfortably onto the foot of Lily's bed, having decided upon comfort rather than crowding so she could read along. Mr. Evans had taken up his old post on the edge of the bed near Lily. He had his arm wrapped around her slight form and she had her head resting on his shoulder, looking at the pages as he opened the book. The raven-haired sister spoke up again, "My favorite was always Cinderella."

"Tuney is right, poppy!" Lily chimed in with a smile on her face. "But we read Cinderella last night."

Mr. Evans smiled at both of his daughters and turned the first few pages until he reached the beginning of the story. His voice was calm as he began, "Ahh, here we are… The king once had a wife with golden hair who was so beautiful that none on earth could be found equal to her. It happened that she fell ill, and as soon as she knew she must die, she sent for the King and said to him, "After my death I know you will marry another wife; but you must promise me that, however beautiful she may be, if she is not as beautiful as I am and has not golden hair like mine you will not marry her." The King had no sooner given his promise than she closed her eyes and died."

Lily smiled, taking a deep breath and curling up to her father as she settled in for the remainder of the story. Petunia shifted her weight so that she was lying on her stomach. Her dark ebony hair was falling in rather messy curls across her face, which was held in her hands as she rested on her elbows.

Mr. Evans continued as though he hadn't paused for even a moment to admire his beautiful daughters, "For a long time he refused to be comforted, and thought it was impossible he could ever take another wife. At length, his counselors came to him, and said, "A king should not remain unmarried; we ought to have a queen." So he at last consented, and the messengers were sent far and wide to find a bride whose beauty should equal that of the dead queen. But none was to be found in the whole world; for even when equally beautiful they had not golden hair.

"But what of the princess, poppy!" Lily pleaded, her bright emerald eyes shining up at the man reading the story.

"I was just coming to that part, love!" Mr. Evans smiled and continued, "Now, the King had a daughter who was quite as beautiful as her dead mother, and had also golden hair. She had all this while been growing up, and very soon the King noticed how exactly she resembled her dead mother. So he sent for his counselors, and said to them, "I will marry my daughter; she is the image of my dead wife and no other bride can be found to enable me to keep my promise to her." When the counselors heard this, they were dreadfully shocked, and said, "It is forbidden for a father to marry his daughter; nothing but evil could spring from such a sin, and the kingdom will be ruined." When the King's daughter heard of the father's proposition she was greatly alarmed, the more so as she saw how resolved he was to carry out his intention."

"She ran away, didn't she father?" Petunia exclaimed from her place on the bed. Her eyes were as blue as a most brilliant summer sky and they sparkled up at both her father and her sister as she asked her question. They were eyes that might have put even the brightest, twinkling stars to shame; for when the girls were younger, it was obvious to anyone who looked at the pair to determine that Petunia was definitely the prettier of the two. But Lily's was a beauty that could only be grown into, for no child with red hair and emerald eyes can ever admit that growing up with such striking features is easy. But Petunia wasn't finished with her query as she continued, "She asks the moon witch for three dresses, right? A dress as golden as the sun, another as silvery as the moon, and a third to glitter like the stars!"

"Well… yes, darling," her father answered. But even as he tried to continue reading the tale he was interrupted by his youngest daughter.

"Actually, she asks her father for those things. And don't forget that she asked for a mantle to be made for her. Every animal in the kingdom was supposed to sacrifice a piece of his fur for it!" Lily reminded, smiling down at her older sister.

"The tasks were supposed to be impossible to complete but the king managed to complete them all anyway," Petunia chimed in, her own way of agreeing with Lily's gentle correction to her false statement.

"My favorite part is when she packs all of the dresses and all of her treasures into a tiny acorn!" Lily agreed as the two sisters seemed to be content to relaying the story back and forth between themselves. The lovely raven-haired girl looked up at her younger sister as Lily's voice became quite dramatic as she added, "And runs away to meet her charming prince."

"I wonder if you two darlings need for your father to finish that story at all," a smiling Mrs. Evans peered through the doorway and took a moment to enjoy the image of her family in front of her. Her brilliant auburn hair was still fastened neatly in a loose braid that fell delicately over her shoulders. She had already changed into her night-dress, though her hair and make-up were yet to be removed before she would actually climb into her own bed. But such was the routine every evening and Mrs. Evans quickly crossed the threshold to kiss both Lily and Petunia on the foreheads before continuing, "It sounds like the two of you could tell it to him from just your memories!"

"Oh, but we absolutely could, mother!" Petunia exclaimed as she climbed off of the foot of Lily's bed and made her way sleepily to her own.

Mr. Evans gently lifted Lily into his arms and unfolded a corner of her bed linens before laying her gently back into her bed. He smoothed a few strands of her hair before kissing the top of her head and watching her settle the rest of the way into her pillows. She seemed irritated that her story was not going to be finished that evening, but her lovely emerald eyes were betraying how tired she actually felt. Mr. Evans turned to Petunia, who had crawled under her own covers and kissed her head, as well.

While Lily and Petunia settled under their soft linens, Mr. Evans wrapped his arm around his wife's waist and whispered, "Goodnight my lovely little flowers."

He turned off the light switch so that the room became dark and paused for just a moment at the threshold of the room, peering at his two little girls before turning to look at a beaming Mrs. Evans. Petunia's eyes were already closed and she seemed completely content to let herself drift gently off to sleep. But as soon as Mr. Evans closed the door, Lily's hand was on the light switch for the lamp on their bedside table. Her voice was soft as she pleaded with her older sister, "Please, Petunia! Won't you finish telling me the rest of the story?"

The older girl rolled over so that her back was turned to her younger sister. It seemed as though she had already fallen asleep and Lily was about to give up on her and turn off the light when she finally responded, "What is there left to tell, Lily? The princess disguises herself as an ugly urchin and runs away. The next morning a prince's hunting party finds her in a right mess. Feeling sorry, they take her back to the castle and she works as a servant in the kitchens."

"But that isn't how the story ends, Tuney!" Lily pleaded, sitting up in the bed and tossing a stuffed teddy bear onto the bed beside hers.

With a sigh, Petunia sat up in her own bed and took the teddy bear into her arms, hugging him gently and kissing him on the nose, as though apologizing for the nerve of her younger sister to just toss him about the room as she had. Biting her lower lip, Petunia noticed the pleading look in Lily's eyes and shook her head, giving in, "Well, the prince's father throws a ball in hopes the prince will meet his future wife. The disguised princess asks for permission to watch the ladies dressed for the ball but instead sneaks away and dresses herself in one of the beautiful dresses and goes herself to dance with the prince."

"But she runs away from him eventually, doesn't she?" Lily's eyes lit up as she asked the question. Somewhere in between her sister's words, the auburn haired child had leaned back into her pillows, but she was still staring at her older sister as though nothing in the world was more interesting than what she had to say.

"Yes, Lily!" Petunia hissed, her impatience showing. It was clear that the eldest of the two Evans wanted to get her rest. "Won't you please let me just tell the story already?"

Lily nodded.

Petunia continued, "The prince was rather sad she had managed to get away so he left the ball early and demanded dinner in his room. The head cook, who had granted the princess permission to leave in the first place, was busy preparing food for all of the guests and ordered the princess make his meal instead. She slipped one of her golden treasures into his beer and when he found it, he demanded to know who had put it there. The princess was brought before him but she had already changed out of her pretty clothes and looked just a servant girl."

"But that isn't how it ends yet, is it, Petunia?" Lily's voice was pleading to hear the end, though she, herself, knew it by heart.

"No, it isn't," Petunia said, stifling a yawn as she laid her head on her pillow and turned off the light. "There are two more balls after that. But at the last one, she forgot to take off her pretty dress when she ran away. When the prince demanded to know who put a gold trinket in his beer, the princess is brought before him and she is the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Then he marries her and they live happily ever after."

Lily smiled and added, "I love the way this story ends." But there was no answer from the bed beside hers. It was an indication that there would be no further conversation between the two Evans girls for that evening. But Lily was content as she closed her eyes and snuggled into her pillow.


	2. Seeing It This Way

**Seeing it This Way****

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****Disclaimer:** Everything you love about this story isn't mine… but I'm going to keep writing anyway in hopes that you'll like the tales I weave as much as the characters that make them.

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**Author's Note:** Still, I apologize for the long paragraphs. I haven't given up on trying my hand at detail with this story… but at the suggestion of some very wise readers, plot development has become a new focus for this particular chapter. As always, your opinions on my attempts (this time at both detail and plot development) would be greatly appreciated.

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Vibrant emerald eyes scanned the Great Hall, for what, an expectant blonde sitting beside the owner of those lovely eyes was uncertain. As was often the case in the mornings, Lily was far less concerned with Alice's attempts at conversation than letting the familiar sounds of breakfast wash over her… and, on that particular morning, letting herself search unabashedly for whatever figure she was interested in finding.

It was springtime at Hogwarts; the last icy hand of winter had finally drawn back a few weeks before. Even as the final layer of ice and snow melted, already the beginnings of green grass and lovely flowers had replaced it. An unspoken understanding is all that left Alice content to allow Lily her moment of solitude despite the constant roar from each of the House tables.

"Alright, Evans!"

And the moment of contentment shared between the pair of friends was instantly interrupted.

Emerald eyes set on hazel as the vivacious red-haired witch glanced sideways at the intruder. Her voice was even-toned, though Alice could detect her friend's disdain from the subtle undertones, "Potter."

It had simply been her acknowledgement that the raven-haired leader of the Marauders had seated himself beside her. She'd taken only a moment to note, inwardly of course, that perhaps it could be contested that James was actually the leader of his group of friends… there was always Sirius to consider, after all. Alice's glance had drifted down the table towards the three remaining Marauders and Lily did her best to keep her expression unchanged; her standard scapegoat, and yes, that person was Alice, was currently not paying her any mind.

"Err – I've been meaning to ask for a while," he began, pausing to run a hand through his painfully unruly hair.

"No."

Alice hid the faint beginnings of a smile behind her hand as she daintily refilled her glass of pumpkin juice from a pitcher that had been situated on the table beside James' elbow. The blonde could determine all of the agitation that Lily had been trying to keep from entering her voice in just the single syllable her best friend had uttered.

Theirs was a friendship that had developed slowly over time and had deepened with the trails of growing up. It was partially due to the careful thoughtfulness each girl paid to the other and partially due to their precise understanding of one another that they could communicate so well without using words at all. For Lily Evans and Alice Walters, some of their most special memories were those that had passed in absolute silence and complete understanding; it was the kind of understanding only sisters could possess. And as far as Lily Evans was concerned, Alice Walters was the best sort of sister she could have ever asked for.

James cocked his head to the side, offering Lily a pout that might have won his way with any other girl in their school as he crossed his arms over his chest, "You didn't even let me finish, Evans!"

Lily's eyes had left James' form altogether and settled on something else across the Great Hall; it was clear that his attempts to win her over using the same tactics he'd adopted for every other girl he'd fancied before her were not even close to swaying Lily's affections. Alice bit her lower lip to keep herself from speaking in the presence of Lily's most detested enthusiast. But the blonde knew that her best friend's gaze was currently glued to the figure of Severus Snape.

Having been witness to the atrocious ending of the long-term childhood friendship between Lily and Severus, Alice understood that it was best to interpret Lily's longing gaze as one of nostalgia. She was remembering a time in the past when Severus would have crossed the distance to her table and taken the seat on her opposite side; his presence was enough to successfully bar James' proximity to Lily… effective for nearly ten feet. However, there was something different about the way her best friend's eyes didn't seem to hold the familiar sparkle Alice could always recognize as happiness and that fact alone was enough to allude there was something deeper associated with Lily's demeanor that morning.

"You're not even _curious_ about what I wanted to ask you?" James broke through the silence and caused both of the girls to jump. Lily had completely forgotten James was still sitting beside her and Alice… well; she'd been so occupied with deciphering the look in Lily's eyes she'd tuned him out altogether. Hazel eyes flashed with a mischievous glint as the corner of his mouth turned up into his characteristic smirk, "Not even an insy, little bit?"

He'd inched closer to Lily, a devilish look in his eyes as his voice dropped so low it was nothing more than a whisper. The pair of them was close enough their foreheads were nearly touching. Alice's breath caught in her throat as she realized that, having been snapped so quickly from such a vulnerable moment, Lily seemed absolutely lost in James' eyes. Of course she knew that Lily's feelings for the infamous James Potter ran so much more deeply, were so much more complicated, were so much more a secret… she didn't hate him _nearly_ as much as she let on. But things were quite convoluted where actually admitting to that was concerned.

"Lily, love," Alice's voice was soft as she reached across the table and took her friend's hand in her own. It had all been done quietly, so she wouldn't cause the other girl to jump and actually end up _touching_ James Potter. "You had promised we could continue our discussion on that new Doctorow novel… Ragtime. We fell asleep discussing it last night, remember?"

Brushing a strand of her luxurious auburn hair behind her ear, Lily's eyes met her best friend's for the briefest moment in a silent 'thank you' before falling to her plate. She'd suddenly become insatiably engrossed in the task of spreading the remainder of her uneaten breakfast around the edges of the golden salver. Letting her chin fall into the palm of her hand, only to be supported by her elbow on the table, Lily was left to her task with patient deliberation. Of course she understood the weight of what James had nearly done…

Alice had expected the Marauder to leave after her comment ended his and Lily's shared moment with an awkward, persistent silence. She raised an eyebrow in response to his hazel eyes; it seemed like they were all but begging her to leave the bench opposite the scheming boy who was all-too-interested in Lily. Taking a deep breath, Alice tried to mask her concern for Lily while at the same time convincing James to kindly excuse himself from the table. Her blue eyes were kind, she'd wanted them to read naïve, as she spoke, "You'll understand, James. It would be difficult to join in on the middle of a conversation about a book you haven't read."

He seemed rather put off now, the blonde noted.

"Now, now; you've got it all wrong, Walters!" he'd raised his voice enough that several students sitting at nearby tables had turned to look at where the three of them were sitting. If he'd noticed, at all, the attention he'd drawn to them, James seemed ultimately uninterested as he continued, "If I'd have come over here to talk to you-"

But the Marauder was cut off by the handsome figure of Frank Longbottom as he asked, "Is everything alright over here?" The young man, barely an inch shorter than James, tilted his head just slightly to the side to flick his shaggy, caramel-blonde bags away from his eyes. Placing a hand gently on Alice's shoulder, Frank's kind brown eyes met Lily's enchanting emerald.

"Quite alright, indeed," Lily smiled across the table at Alice and made a note to tell her that her face had been positively scarlet when Frank had come to rescue them from James Potter. For the remainder of the endeavor, the red-head knew that she would have to carry the conversation; it was her own way of returning Alice's favor… Alice had only been interested, and that was a term to be used loosely as it could easily be replaced with _obsessed-infatuated-besotted_… and positively _smitten_ with Frank Longbottom since she'd caught him reading her copy of short stories by Edgar Allen Poe before the Christmas holidays.

'Oh! It was a Muggle book, love!' she'd mused in the privacy of their dormitory with the curtains drawn around her four poster bed as the two girls huddled together over the latest copy of Witches Weekly. She was positively aglow when she admitted, 'It's just that he's my favorite Muggle author you've ever had me read… and Frank did look like he was enjoying it so! I just couldn't take the book away.'

James tried his best to seem relatively unaffected by the arrival of Frank, however his hazel eyes made it quite clear that he was less than pleased the seventh year prefect had been invited into the girls' little heart-to-heart while he had been so rudely excluded. Clearing his throat, he rose easily from the bench on which he had been seated and was careful to remain unheard as he placed a hand on Lily's shoulder. Leaning over, he whispered so that only she could hear, "When you're ready to stop playing the third wheel to Walters and Longbottom, you know where to find me. Oh, and Sirius admitted he's finally willing to return that pair of panties he stole from you."

Lily's cheeks flushed a soft shade of rose as she felt her heartbeat quicken.

"That's quite enough, Mr. Potter!" Professor McGonagall had appeared from nowhere at his side, though Lily highly doubted that she had just miraculously appeared there. She'd made her way down from the head table. The look in her grey eyes was persuasive enough, it seemed, because James simply nodded his understanding and returned to take his place at the Marauder's table; but not before offering Lily another of his devilish grins. The stern figure of her professor gently touched Lily's shoulder to gather the girl's attention, though her tone was much less the harsh one it had been when she'd addressed James, "Will you please follow me to my office, Miss Evans?"

"Of course, Professor," Lily stood gracefully, adjusting her school bag comfortably on her shoulder in the same motion. She quickly glanced back down the table and caught James' longing glance; it would have been a lie to say that she hated noticing those instances when his eyes were fixed on only her.

"Oh, Lily!" Alice called. "I'll just catch up with you in the library later, then?"

The other girl just nodded her head as she followed Professor McGonagall out of the Great Hall.


	3. Modern Gentleman

**Modern Gentleman

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Disclaimer:** Everything you love about this story isn't mine… but I'm going to keep writing anyway in hopes that you'll like the tales I weave as much as the characters that make them.

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**Author's Note:** I find it only right to warn that this chapter might tug at your heartstrings a bit. Necessary for the progression of the story, loves; I promise all is with good reason. Oh, and I should mention that the last chapter received a veritable re-write… you owe it to yourself to read it over.

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It was mid afternoon the same day before anyone managed to catch up with Lily after Professor McGonagall had called the bright young girl to her office. She'd found herself a lovely little spot beneath a young oak on the castle grounds near the lake, protected to her satisfaction from the sun that constantly threatened her perfect skin. Lily's black robes were scattered beneath her, legs folded neatly at her side on top of the great span of black fabric. She took a moment to smooth her pleated grey skirt over her legs before placing the leather bound book she had been reading back on her lap. There was a tear-stained piece of Muggle stationary tucked into the page she had open.

Brilliant emerald eyes stared across the lake for a moment, towards the Forbidden Forest. Taking a shaky breath, Lily read the letter over to herself once more. She'd recognized the handwriting to be her older sister's almost at once.

_Lily, _- 'had Petunia struggled whilst deciding how to address it; this letter?' the golden-haired beauty wondered.

_Please understand this letter is quite difficult for me to write. We have been exactly close in years. _– Years indeed, though it was through no fault of Lily's own, she reminded herself, that she and Petunia were not close; the young witch had exhausted herself trying to patch their strained relationship.

_Forgive me if this all seems rather blunt, but you'll understand I no longer know exactly how to speak to you anymore._

_There was an accident. _– and that was the way her older sister had decided to tell her? So plain, so blunt… so void of emotion.

_Last night, sometime between the hours of three and four in the morning, Father was driving the car home from Auntie Kathleen's in the country. I've not a clue why he thought it necessary to drive home so late at night. _– 'She'd always been one to chastise, even her own parents, that Petunia,' and Lily frowned and the realization.

_Father fell asleep at the wheel. He was killed instantly. Mummy is in the critical care unit at Bethlem Royal Hospital. The doctors say she hasn't got much longer._

_Hurry home, Lily. Vernon will be at King's Cross to pick you up first thing Saturday morning._ – Hadn't she even the decency to come herself?

_Your sister, Petunia_

With a heavy heart, Lily set aside the book she had placed the letter in, frowning as the tears welled up in her eyes. It was too much to keep them from falling anymore. As she muffled a sob, her head fell into her hands and, despite all her best efforts, she trembled; reduced to a small child, fearful of what the future would hold. Faced with the reality of losing her father and terrified at the possibility of losing her mother, Lily let her tears fall, unashamed.

Like most girls of sixteen, Lily couldn't imagine a life without her father. He was the man who had adored her, spoiled her beyond measure with bednight stories and piggy back rides. He'd been there to pick her up each time she'd fallen when the girl had been learning to ride her bike. Her father had been the one to teach her to tie her shoes, kick a football through a goal; he'd fostered her love for classical literature and well-tuned ear for rock and roll music.

He was supposed to be there with her on her wedding day, to walk her down the aisle. It was a day she'd been dreaming of her entire life and he'd never get to see how happy she would be. Her father was supposed to be the final judge of character in the man that was to be her husband; to give her away at the altar. He was meant to spoil his grandchildren, bounce them happily on his knee and listen to their laughter fill his heart. He was supposed to love them as he'd loved her.

But it had all been taken from him…

And by the sound of Petunia's letter, her mother wouldn't be far behind.

Fortunately, Professor McGonagall had been more wonderful than words could describe. "I have a letter for you, dear. It didn't arrive to us by owl so it couldn't be delivered in the morning post." The letter had not been opened and Lily wondered if her professor meant for her to open it while they were together in her office. "Oh!" the older witch exclaimed, "Excuse me, dear." She turned in her chair and crossed to the window. Sunlight bathed her form as she studied the courtyard below; Lily was satisfied with this form of privacy.

Without further hesitation, she tore into the letter. Recognizing the scrawling penmanship to be her sister's handwriting, the red head felt her breath catch in her throat. She read it once, twice, three times before dropping it to the floor. A pained sound escaped her throat and the professor was at her side immediately; having obviously recognized the reaction of her favorite student. "There, there, dear," she comforted Lily, patting and smoothing her fiery locks. "It's quite alright. Cry all you need."

After what had seemed several hours, Lily murmured into her professor's shoulder, "But… what about my finals?"

"Let me take care of the technicalities. You run along and find a place to yourself; perhaps a bit of sunlight on the grounds will do you some good," the older woman handed Lily a handkerchief. "We'll arrange your trip home first thing in the morning."

"Yes, ma'am," she picked up the letter her professor had just skimmed and turned to leave.

"And Miss Evans," McGonagall's voice stopped her in her tracks; she'd lost any of the warmth her earlier actions had suggested and, instead, had returned to her normal, stiff posture. "You'll know where to find me, should you require anything at all."

The girl nodded, murmuring a soft 'thanks', before pushing her way through the doorway and rushing to a spot near the lake. It was there she had been seated since receiving the letter. Sitting up straighter and holding her head high she drew a shaky breath and glanced back towards the castle. There was a robed figure approaching her and she quickly wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeves. She was Lily Evans, after all, and Lily Evans did not cry… at least not in front of anyone else.

The moment the figure ran his hand through the dark mess atop his head, Lily's heart sank.

"Alright, Evans?" he questioned, taking the last few steps towards her in a jog.

"Oh James," her voice sounded nearly breathless as she turned her attention away from him and back towards the Forbidden Forest. Admittedly startled by her use of his first name, James quickly pushed the realization from his mind and sat down beside her. Before he could speak, however, Lily cut him off; her voice hoarse, her words desperate, "Please, can we not do this today?"

Her eyes were dark, her gaze lowered, but James could tell she had been crying. His mouth fell open as he stared at the vulnerable, delicate beauty he'd lusted after for six years. Though he'd never seen her looking so upset before, her tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes didn't make her any less beautiful in his eyes. Placing a hand on her forearm, he narrowed his eyes, studying her.

Feeling her breath catch in her throat, she looked up at James. Lily blinked, before she closed her eyes, sighing, "I'm not in a mood to bicker."

Biting his tongue, James took some advise Remus had given him in hopes of saving his friend's ill-fated conversations with Lily Evans; take a moment to consider what you'd actually like to tell her before just saying the first thing that comes to mind. He moved his hand from her forearm and placed it in his lap, finding that any sort of contact between them would probably not be welcomed with the warmth and admiration he desired. Their eyes met again and he offered her a sad, apologetic look, "I'm sorry it bothers you so much… me asking you out. I won't do it again."

A strange feeling overcame her with this confession and her heart did an uncomfortable flip-flop in her chest. Biting her lower lip she tried to hold back the tears.

"I suppose you don't want to tell me what's wrong," James had turned to look back towards the castle, noting the encouraging figures of his three best friends, the Mauraders, in the distance. He turned away from them and looked at the girl beside him longingly. His voice sounded pained as he asked, "Should I go fetch Alice, then?"

Lily simply nodded her head, the sobs she had wanted so desperately to hide from him racking her slender frame.

"Oh, Lily!" he exclaimed, hesitating for only a moment before rising to his knees and wrapping his arms around her shaking shoulders. "I can't leave you here like this. Please stop crying. I didn't mean to upset you… honest!"

He rested his cheek against the top of her head, letting his left hand lace through her silky hair, an action he'd only dared dream of in his most secret reveries. It felt natural to have her so close to him, in his arms. His right hand fell to her waist, a gesture that could only be determined as comforting. Touching Lily Evans, though one of his most desperate desires, was the furthest thing from his mind in that instant. His mind briefly wandered to his friends, standing atop the hillside, probably bewildered beyond belief that he was actually _embracing_ Lily Evans, the girl of his dreams, without receiving a well placed smack to his face or watching her storm off in a rage. But she needed his attention more than his befuddled Mauraders and he quickly brought his focus back to the little red haired girl crying against his shoulder.

And he needed only a moment to note that she hadn't pulled away…

She moved her head slightly back and forth, indicating between her sobs that these tears were not the effect of his normal antics. Forgetting exactly who James Potter was to her, she clutched his shoulders desperately, clenching the smooth fabric of his robes in her tiny fists like she'd never let go. His response to her despondency was subtle; James turned his face into her radiant hair and took a deep breath, inhaling the subtle scent of lavender and honeysuckle.

Lily wasn't sure for how long they'd stayed like that, but eventually her tears subsided and she felt rather guilty for involving James in the moment she was at her most defenseless. Pulling away from him slightly, Lily gazed into James' eyes and saw only puzzlement and something she wouldn't allow herself to perceive as admiration there. It had been most uncharacteristic of her, of course, to allow herself to fall into his arms. He didn't say anything and didn't move away from her. His hand was still resting protectively on her waist, the other wound in her hair.

Feeling so grateful she couldn't imagine words, even in her mind, to describe her appreciation that he'd remained silent instead of digressing back to his normal pattern of immaturity, she reached to her side and found the book that still lay open with the letter inside. Picking it up, she handed it over, watching his expression turn from uncertainty to sorrow. His eyes peered over the letter at her but she wasn't looking at him anymore. Instead her attention had turned to her hands, resting gently in her lap.

"You don't have to say anything," she whispered. She met his gaze again as a single tear fell from her glimmering eyes, "Thank you, James Potter, for staying."

He wiped her cheeks clean with the back of his hand.


	4. You're Crashing, But You're No Wave

**You're Crashing, But You're No Wave

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**Disclaimer:** Everything you love about this story isn't mine… but I'm going to keep writing anyway in hopes that you'll like the tales I weave as much as the characters that make them.

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**Author's Note:** Here enters the first predicament of the story. But I promise it will be back to Hogwarts with Miss Lily soon. Also, I just wanted to provide a quick 'thank you' to everyone who has reviewed, added a story alert, or placed this fic on their favorites list. You are all amazing and have encouraged me immensely! Drop a review and I will write back.

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Stepping into her childhood home hadn't brought nearly the same feelings of warmth and love that Lily consoled herself remembering while she was away at Hogwarts; though that probably had everything to do with the presence of her older sister and the rogue-ish man she'd brought home as her fiancée. The trio had just finished an afternoon lunch and Lily had busied herself clearing their dishes away from the table. There was silence in the room, an awkward, looming sort that left Lily feeling rather overwrought; she spared no effort to keep her activity near the sink quiet.

"I've been thinking," Petunia's shrill voice sounded through the kitchen, breaking Lily's concentration on the dishes. The girl at the sink stopped for only a moment to look over her shoulder, a silent acknowledgment that she'd heard her sister. Clearing her throat and proceeding at the nudge of her shoulder by Vernon, Petunia continued, "About the house."

After a few moments of tension, Lily placed another dish on the drying rack beside her, "Oh?"

The girl had managed to sound indifferent to what it was that her sister was going to tell her but, really, it was just a feeble attempt at a defense against the thoughts that her sister's words were likely to illicit. Discussion about the estate and personal effects of her late parents was something that Lily was not quite interested in, nor capable of, discussing with a sister she still hadn't completely mended her relationship with.

Lily had arrived at Bethlem Royal Hospital not more than a quarter of an hour after being picked up at King's Cross Station by her sister's burly fiancée. He'd politely managed her trunk back to the car for her, offering an impersonal, yet not altogether impolite, 'I'm sorry for your loss,' before navigating the most direct route to Bethlem. He'd let her out at the doorway, telling her just the room number and floor her mother's room was located on, so that he could park the car.

She'd hurried to the elevator, tapping her foot impatiently as the contraption carried her higher at an agonizingly slow pace. It had taken seconds for her to rush from the elevator, nearly pushing the doors open with her fists, before hurrying through the hallways. Able to follow Petunia's voice and locate her mother's room more quickly, Lily swung around the doorway. She felt her breath catch in her throat, however, when she saw how many machines her mother was tied to. Petunia was sitting in a small wooden chair at Mrs. Evans' bedside; she looked up when she heard Lily's footsteps slow as she crossed the threshold. The red haired daughter could have sworn she saw her mother smile when their eyes met.

"My girls," she managed quietly.

"Shh! Mother," Petunia pleaded. "Everything's alright now. Lily's home; we're together… as a family."

Taking the last few, cautious, steps to her mother's bedside, Lily took the woman's frail hand and was shocked at how cold it felt in her own. Her eyes darted to Petunia, who had stood up to be closer to her younger sister. There were dark circles under her eyes, alluding that she hadn't left their mother's bedside since her condition had stabilized. It was an acceptable reason, Lily decided then, to send Vernon after her at the station.

"I had hoped," Mrs. Evans stopped just once to wince, as her heart monitor fluttered. "I had hoped to see the two of you grown; best friends again."

"Oh mummy," Lily whispered, brushing a few strands of her dark auburn hair, graying slightly from age, out of her icy blue eyes. "Don't you talk like that!"

Petunia had nodded her agreement, placing a protective hand on Lily's shoulder.

"Promise me that you'll take care of one another."

But their mother was gone before the pair had a chance to answer… Vernon, whom Lily had not noticed enter, swept Petunia into his arms, more in an attempt to muffle her blubbering sobs, leaving Lily to wrap her arms around their mother's small frame and cry her eyes out against her shoulder.

To be perfectly honest, things between the two sisters had improved dramatically since the death of their parents; thought that was most likely due to the fact that, without them, there was no one to bring up Lily's previous term at Hogwarts. The red haired witch was far from foolish enough to disrupt what shaky peace had been established between the lot of them by mentioning what she knew would only upset Petunia and Vernon. The girls were able to manage being in the same room at present; they ate their meals together and had comforted one another at the funeral service for their parents.

Biting her lower lip, Lily remembered what Petunia had told her after they had left the hospital… something to the effect that their mother had only held on long enough to see her two daughters together once more; their mutual attempts to repair the broken relationship between them would have made her proud. Taking a deep breath, Lily finished scrubbing the remnant of food scraps from the last dish into the trash can before cleaning it. Anything to take her mind away from the last few moments they'd spent as a family.

"Well, Lily?"

Petunia's voice snapped her out of her reverie.

Thankful for the distraction, Lily let the water run down the drain at the sink and dried her hands on a nearby towel. She turned around and took her seat across from Vernon and Petunia, murmuring an embarrassed, "Hmm?"

With a sigh, clearly indicating his irritation, Vernon clarified, "She's selling the house and we are getting married next summer."

"Selling the – but Petunia!" Lily protested, leaning forward with alarm evident in her voice. "You couldn't! Where will I – you'll be married! It would be improper if I lived with you." Her fingertips brushed against Petunia's forearm but the other woman leaned back in her chair, out of Lily's reach.

"But of course she's already thought of that!" Vernon exclaimed, seemingly content to speak for Petunia, whose eyes had traveled to her hands, folded neatly in her lap. There was silence as Lily's eyes searched her future brother-in-law's, hoping beyond hope that he was merely joking.

"You're underage, Lily," Petunia finally spoke. "And rather than send you to Auntie Kathleen's in the countryside where I know you'd be dreadfully miserable…" Her voice trailed off and she was still unwilling to let her eyes meet Lily's. Petunia bit her lower lip, drawing in a sharp breath before finishing her thought, "You're to move in with father's business partner, Mr. Wilhelm."

Lily's jaw utterly dropped and she stared, dumbfounded, letting her gaze pass over Vernon and then Petunia before she finally closed her mouth. Her mind swam with what all of this could possibly mean. Surely moving into a house with an unmarried, middle-aged man was more indecent than living with her recently married sister and brother-in-law. Her voice was laced with confusion as she leaned back in her chair, away from the pair across from her, "B-but I don't understand… wouldn't that be more indecorous yet?"

"You'll be married to Mr. Wilhelm," Petunia's words were blunt as she quickly stood from the table, rubbing her temples as though she were developing the beginnings of a headache.

"Petunia!" Lily's shock was evident in the three syllables of her sister's name. She threw both of her hands onto the table in front of her, pushing herself into a standing position at an alarming speed. The girl's emerald eyes were wide with shock and perhaps the beginnings of fear that her sister simply hadn't been pulling her leg… that this was the harsh reality she was now faced with.

But Vernon slammed his fist against the table, startling both of the women, "It has already been decided."

"What of my education?" Lily protested; the only thing that didn't seem absurd to mention given the current turn of conversation.

"You're not going back to that despicable establishment you call a school!" Vernon roared, causing Lily to flinch and Petunia to back away from him and into a wall. "It will be a proper education for you!"

With tears forming at the corners of her eyes, Lily backed slowly away from the table. Her fingertips fell gracefully away from its smooth edges as she quickly turned and fled from the room. She took the stairs two at a time, tracing the familiar path upstairs to her bedroom. Slamming the door behind her, she looked around the small room that she had once shared with her sister, Petunia. She had grown up here, in this bedroom; it had seen her greatest triumphs, her greatest defeats. It had known the sadness, the joys of her childhood. And now it would know her greatest sorrow, as well…

Just as she was about to throw herself onto her bed and cry for the bitterness of her wretched sister's heart, or at least that of the ghastly beast she was planning to marry, a soft tapping could be heard on her window. Her heart skipped a beat as she looked at the familiar tawny owl, turning its head curiously, as though inspecting the figure inside. Lily recognized this creature like she would a member of her own family.

"Figg!" she smiled, throwing open the window and taking the letter tied to the owl's leg.


	5. Her Modest Manifesto

**Her Modest Manifesto**

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**Disclaimer:** Everything you love about this story isn't mine… but I'm going to keep writing anyway in hopes that you'll like the tales I weave as much as the characters that make them.

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**Author's Note:** Admittedly, this isn't my most favorite chapter but, again, building the story. I promise more of your favorite characters will be in the next installment – and the romantic pieces will start fitting together. You think I'd forgotten I have things left to explain from Chapter Two?

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It was the first time she'd relaxed, allowed herself to actually believe that she'd found a safe hideaway, since Petunia and Vernon had broken the news to her the afternoon before. When asked about it later, the red head would have admitted there had been something magic about the comforting embrace of one Alice Rodgers but, in the moment, it felt good just to be welcomed. The blonde had pulled her best friend close, hiding her face in smooth, fiery locks; it looked as though she might never let go. But Lily returned her best friend's embrace just as fervently.

When the moment had finally come to pass, the pair were left sitting on the shady verandah that wrapped around Alice's modest little house. Lily's arms were wrapped around her legs, pulling her knees to her chest so that she could rest her chin atop them. Alice, on the other hand, was sitting directly across from the graceful girl she called a best friend; her legs were folded Indian-style and she toyed absentmindedly with her hair.

"So you just… left, then?" the blonde finally broke the silence. She let a hand fall to the other girl's shoulder, a comforting gesture, and their eyes met. Alice was searching, perhaps, for an indication that Lily was more… oh, she wasn't sure –_ disconcerted, indignant, betrayed, bemused,_ _frightened_ – after all, she'd only just been 'signed up' for England's first arranged marriage in centuries. Admittedly, this was probably not the first arranged marriage in _centuries_ but Alice hadn't had too hard of a time stretching her sympathies as far as they might go in the case of Lily Evans.

The other girl bit her lower lip as she stared back at the bright blue eyes inspecting her.

It had been quite a lot more than just leaving… like some convict evading the law, like some frightened beast escaping the hunter. Hardly words enough existed that could be used to describe what she'd done. She'd waited until night had fallen, when she was certain that both Petunia and Vernon had fallen asleep, before sneaking across the hallway to her parent's bedroom. She had been calculating and precise about the time she spent there. Lily had been planning it all evening from the safety of her bedroom.

She'd gone to her mother's closet first, wincing at the familiar creaking of floorboards beneath her feet. Inside there were just three things the girl wanted; well, three dresses if one wanted to be technical about it. The first was a pretty maroon jumper made of wool; Lily had given it to her mother as a gift not two Christmases before. Now that she had grown a bit, it was quite likely that the lovely garment would fit her. The second dress was quite a lot more formal, emerald, and absolutely breathtaking; something one ought to wear to a party. Lily's mother had worn it to her father's Christmas party with his coworkers. Finally, the last dress Lily pulled out of the closet was a pretty yellow sundress, just the perfect, pale, shade of yellow to set off her lovely ivory skin.

Each one was laid gently on the bed before Lily crossed the floor to her father's nightstand. Inside was the tattered purple book that had been her most favorite bed time story. Her voice was soft, not even a whisper as she breathed, "The Princess in Disguise." Touching the foiled letters on the front of the book gently with her fingertips, Lily inhaled sharply, feeling a pain in her chest she wasn't accustomed to. Taking the dresses, she laid them neatly over her arm before laying the book on top and crossing back to her bedroom.

It was a quick trip; she'd really needed nothing more than to deliver the items she had gathered to safety before journeying to the attic. This part, she knew, would be the most dangerous of her plan because she'd have to creep so carefully, taking extra measure not to step on the creaky first step, right past Petunia's bedroom. And if there was one thing in this world her sister was not, it was a light sleeper.

Fortunately, Lily made it upstairs without waking anyone in the house. The attic had been a favorite place of hers to play when she was younger but it was always uncomfortable, no matter what the time of year. This balmy summer evening was no exception as the young woman strained her eyes to see through the darkness and locate the luggage she had come to find. Feeling blindly through the darkness, her fingertips brushed against a silk ribbon. It wasn't the luggage, though that had been lying right beside, but was so familiar that she felt the faint hints of a smile forming at the corners of her lips. It was her father's mistletoe… he hung it just above the doorway to his bedroom each Christmas and would kiss their mother beneath it each morning when they woke up and each evening before they went to bed. Sliding it into the luggage without so much as a second thought, Lily hurried down the staircase and to the safety of her own bedroom again.

She knew that daylight was growing nearer and as it did her chances of escaping undetected diminished significantly. Hurriedly digging through her trunk to determine the items she could leave behind and those she had no choice but to take, Lily packed the suitcase. Her school robes went in first, her wand next. She mentally cursed that she was still underage and not allowed to make proper use of it until she'd returned to Hogwarts that fall. This escape would be so much easier if she were able to use magic. Hearing her future brother-in-law shift in his sleep and the bedsprings creak with the stress of his weight, Lily frowned.

She didn't have time enough to assess which books she would need. So she decided to leave them all behind; all save the lovely leather-bound copy she'd taken from her father's bedroom. Her mother's dresses quickly followed. Packing parchment, quills, and ink Lily hurriedly pushed as many of her treasures inside as she could manage. She tied the scarf Alice had given her the year before for Christmas around the handle; it was the last item she needed but there was no way that it would fit inside of the bag. Her duffel would hold more than her trunk had; it would attract less attention, as well, but that didn't make leaving the trunk any less difficult.

Lily took a final look around her bedroom, knowing that she'd never set foot inside of it again.

The vibrant young red head was on her front lawn only moments later, crossing the distance from her porch to the mailbox by the street. It was then that she noticed a football hiding out in the shrubbery between her neighbor's lawn and her own. Unbelievably, it was the very same she had played with as a child when her father had just begun teaching her the rules of the game. Smiling, she got down on her knees and pulled it to freedom.

"There we go," she mumbled under her breath as she pulled the football to her chest and hugged it despite herself. Her eyes were closed when she reached backwards for the strap of the duffel bag she had let fall from her shoulder. But what her fingertips found instead was a different matter entirely.

The leather, though quite worn with age, was still soft and Lily managed to keep a gasp from escaping her lips. Knowing emerald eyes traveled from the shoe she had quickly pulled her hand away from and up into a familiar pair of dark eyes. They were dark like midnight but as he gazed down at her, there was sorrow hidden in their depths. He offered her his hand, as he had so often when they were children, to help her up.

She accepted.

"I'm sorry about your mum," Severus whispered. Lily knew he hadn't mentioned her father because, frankly, Mr. Evans had never been a strong supporter of the friendship that had developed between his youngest daughter and the troubled young boy who lived down the street. But where Mr. Evans was unforgiving, Mrs. Evans had been understanding; Severus had escaped his father's abusive hand many a time by seeking refuge at the Evans' house. And Mrs. Evans had been as fast to dry his tears and tend his cuts and bruises as she would have been one of her own children. Severus inhaled sharply, pulling Lily's attention back to the moment.

"And I'm sorry about yours."

There was a long pause as the young man realized that Lily had known of his own mother's passing earlier that summer and yet hadn't sought him out to offer her condolences or kind words. He stared at her intently as though committing each of her features to memory; no emotion crossed his stern features.

It wasn't until Lily made a move to return the strap of her duffel bag over her shoulder that Severus finally spoke, "What are you thinking to do, Lily Evans? It's not like you to take off like this while there might be Death Eaters about."

She made to take a step around him, his concern was too little too late; but he placed a hand on her shoulder. It was enough to make her look at him again, though this time emerald eyes blazed as she shrugged out of his grasp, "Well it seems I have already had the good fortune of finding one and, all probability aside, I'm a far cry from finding another wandering about here in Surrey."

He didn't argue her words but, instead, turned away so she wouldn't see the pain in his eyes.

Then, she walked down the street, away from the dark figure on her front lawn, and left Spinner's End for the last time in her life.

"So he just let you walk away like that?" Alice questioned as Lily finished relaying her story. It was one that had taken the better part of an hour to tell, but the blonde listener had been patient. She'd inserted her 'oohs' and 'ahhs' in all of the right places and left her snide insults of Petunia, the horse, and Vernon, the whale, to herself. But when the vivacious red head confided her encounter with Severus Snape to her best friend, Alice simply hadn't been able to keep herself quiet any longer. With fists clenched at her side, the blonde was almost shaking as she growled, "The _coward_! And I suppose his reaction confirms he really is a Death Eater!"

It was a statement; not a question.

Turning so that she was looking into icy blue eyes, Lily pondered her answer for only a moment, "Well, I suppose I've known what he was all along… what all of the hate could do to him, what Severus was really capable of. I just – I couldn't admit it to myself; it was as though I was content to hold on to whatever fragment was left of that boy he used to be."

Alice nodded her acceptance, placing a comforting hand on her best friend's forearm while Lily let her gaze travel upwards and away into the distance.


	6. And They Call This Tragedy

**And They Call This Tragedy**

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**Disclaimer** :: Everything you love about this story isn't mine… but I'm going to keep writing anyway in hopes that you'll like the tales I weave as much as the characters that make them.

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**Author's Note** :: Yeah… embarrassing how long it's taken me to post an update. I hope this chapter satisfies anyone still reading. Let me know what you think about the direction that I'm taking – your feedback, as always, helps direct the course of this story. Further, some of you might be happy to read that I'm already hard at work on the next chapter. You can expect something else to post before the end of this weekend. Love you!

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Nervously running a hand through wavy blonde hair, expectant blue eyes met emerald green and the slender young woman bit her lower lip. It was evident she was considering whether or not she out to vocalize her thoughts. Taking a deep breath, Alice smoothed the modest skirt over her sun-tanned thighs and crossed, then uncrossed, her ankles under the table.

"You're fidgeting," Lily's voice was soft, that any of the young witches or wizards occupying nearby booths might not hear. Noting the way her comment prompted her best friend to place both of her delicate hands on the table in front of her, palms down, Lily smiled. Her eyes, her voice; it was soothing and instilled a sense of confidence at the same time. The auburn-haired beauty put a hand on top of her best friend's. "Don't be nervous. Frank will be here any moment. And then you'll have a lovely time. And he'll fall in love with you. And you'll get married-"

"Lily Evans!" Alice exclaimed, redness rushing to her high cheekbones. But she smiled and the pair of best friends laughed, reduced to giggles, hands clasped tightly together in the middle of the table. Biting her lower lip to stave her laughter, Alice feigned disapproval, "Let's not get ahead of ourselves!"

Smiling warmly, Lily brushed a tendril of her golden hair behind her ear, the very picture of happiness as she retorted in the most matter of fact nature she could manage, "If it should ring true, I expect to be invited to toast the pair of you at your wedding. And I rather fancy the idea of being Godmum to your first born."

"But of course, Lily! Of course," Alice answered, beaming over the slight flush that was yet to completely fade from her cheeks. "You'll absolutely be the first on my list should I find myself in need of either service."

The bell rang merrily from the entrance to signal that a new patron had entered the establishment and both witches snapped to attention. Lily's eyes traveled quickly to the threshold, noting that it was Frank Longbottom, devilishly handsome in new black robes absolutely befitting of an Auror. He'd gone to work for the Ministry directly following graduation from Hogwarts. A definite honor. Being a year older than both Lily and Alice, Frank was already finished with his final year at the school of Witchcraft and Wizardry but had somehow managed to find enough time to sneak away from his training to meet Alice for ice cream in Diagon Alley. It had been a most convenient break as she made a final trip to shop for the schoolbooks she needed for her final year.

Frank noticed the pair of familiar faces in the back of the store and smiled his recognition, waving his right hand in a friendly manner to the girls. Alice and Lily shared one final glance, Alice all nerves and Lily completely collected, encouraging her blonde friend with a smile. Offering Alice one last, gentle squeeze of her hand for reassurance, Lily gracefully slid out of the booth.

"Won't you stay to join us, Lily?" Frank asked politely.

"Oh, I couldn't possibly! I've got just a few supplies left on my list. Thank you, though," she smiled, waving at Alice and offering, "Meet you outside of Gringott's at half-past six?"

The blonde nodded, smiling at Frank as he slid into Lily's place in the booth. Making her way back to the entrance, Lily was sure neither Alice not Frank had turned to see her leave. She was happy for them both. They'd been dancing around the subject of actually going on a date for months. Lily had known that, eventually, something would work out.

Taking a moment to look around and gather her bearings, Lily set her sights on the nearest bookstore and made to cross the street. Managing her way to the doorway, her small hand was on the knob when she heard an oh-so-familiar, "Oi! Evans!"

Feeling a flush rise to her cheeks, Lily took a deep breath before turning to answer. Her expression was neutral, masking any emotion that could have been contrived from her standard response, "Potter."

He'd run the final few steps to be standing next to her and the two of them stood there, evaluating one another, and the hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley seemed to stand still around them. Bringing a nervous hand to the back of his head, James ruffled his dark brown hair and offered her a weak smile, "Did you have–err… how was your summer holiday?"

James mentally kicked himself and Lily could tell by the way his hazel eyes clouded over that he'd acted on impulse, calling out to her as he had. He'd no sooner jogged up to speak to her than their eyes had met and he'd been rendered a bloody-blubbering fool. He'd not been able to mask his emotions quickly enough. Keeping her composure, Lily smiled kindly, her eyes shone hopeful that her reaction might be able to salvage the moment, dispel some of the tension that had settled between them. She'd understood immediately that he'd not meant the question as it had come out.

"Wonderful, thank you; I stayed with Alice," she held her hands behind her back, almost as though she had been overcome with shyness as a result of their interaction. They stared at one another for a few moments more before she smiled, adding, "How was yours?"

He ignored her question, blurting out, "I wanted to write you, Lily; honest I did. I thought about you all summer." Deep brown eyes shined something Lily couldn't quite identify. Longing, perhaps? Sadness?

The emotion was powerful, coercing Lily to look at the ground, awkwardly fidgeting. Eventually, the red head settled into a position where her right hand held her left bicep and her left arm hung lump at her side.

"About the lake…" he trailed off, his eyes begging her to understand thoughts, feelings, emotions he couldn't begin to rationalize to himself, let alone verbalize to her.

But he was cut off almost immediately by a soft, shrill voice, "Oh, there you are, James!" I've been waiting forever for you to come back!" The slender brunette wrapped her arms around his waist, kissed his cheek, smiled up at him. James, in response, looked absolutely deflated; his eyes a whirlwind of a thousand different emotions. And she'd have seen them all clear as day, just as they were written so plan for all to see across his heart.

If Lily would have looked up. If only she could have seen.

Reaching out to Lily, the brunette smiled politely, warmly. It was a beautiful smile and it absolutely killed the lovely young red head to admit it, "You must be one of James' friends from Hogwarts! My name is Amelia. It's an absolute pleasure to meet you."

"Lily," the red head smiled back, but none of that smile carried through to her voice. "A friend of James'. It's a pleasure – but really, I must be going; a few more books to buy, you know!" Half-heartedly she chuckled, holding up what remained of her school supply list.

"The pleasure is mine," she heard over her shoulder. But Lily had already turned around, weaving her way through the crowd. Her eyes were trained to the ground and she mentally cursed herself that she'd turned away from the bookstore. More surprising, of course, was the feeling of another figure purposely brushing against her shoulder. When she looked up, there were tears welling in her eyes, and she inwardly sighed.

It just had to be Sirius Black.

Biting her lower lip, she hesitated for only a moment before she brushed past him and ran.

"Evans! Wait up!" he cried, pausing for only a moment to turn to James, his brother in all but blood. Deep brown eyes met hazel, Sirius' silent way of assuring his best mate that it would be alright; that he'd clean up this mess. And Sirius was gone in that same instant, catching Lily by the forearm and pulling her small frame backwards so that her left hip pressed against his right. He quickly wrapped an arm around her in what could only be described as a caring, peaceful gesture. And as their figures continued to fade away along the path, it probably looked to Amelia like Sirius was the one Lily was most interested in where her boyfriend and his best mate were concerned.

Lily, on the other hand, wasn't sure if it was shock and revulsion or appreciation and gratitude that kept her from jumping out of Sirius' grasp. Cursing at him, hexing him straight into Sunday… any reaction at all would have been more in her character, expected from her in that instant. But she leaned into his embrace, almost like she welcomed it, while her fists remained at her sides. She'd been so taken aback by the situation that she acted on impulse and accepted whatever small comfort Sirius Black could provide her.

For Amelia and anyone else that might have seen the pair, it may as well have been the most natural thing in the world for Sirius Black to be taking Lily Evans for a stroll through Diagon Alley. As the two figures disappeared from James' sight, he frowned, knowing exactly what Sirius was playing at. For as far as Amelia was concerned, it seemed to have done the trick but James felt an overwhelming wave of jealousy wash over him, seeing his best mate's arm around the very object of his deepest desires… and she hadn't pulled away. Hadn't seemed even the slightest bit upset.

Sirius, by contrast, hadn't thought much further ahead than simply catching her before she got away. Lily was still locked in what was becoming a most desperate struggle to keep her emotions in check.

"A-about Prongs," he began, surprised to hear himself stutter.

At the mention of James Potter, emerald eyes blazed up at Sirius, afire with a new emotion that the cunning raven-haired Marauder could honestly say that he had yet, before this day, had the pleasure of eliciting from her: fear. It was enough to catch Sirius off guard, making him stagger one step behind the pace that Lily was subconsciously setting for the pair.

"It's nothing," she responded levelly. "You've really got nothing you need to explain, Sirius."

And she was Lily Evans once more.

No indication of the vulnerability Sirius had sensed – had bloody-well seen in her only moments before remained. She was the very picture of composure, a collected young woman strolling through Diagon Alley with her head held high. And Sirius Black could hardly believe the transformation he'd just witnessed from her.

"He told me everything," he whispered, wondering if those words alone would be enough to elicit a further bought of emotion from her. "About the lake, your parents. Evans, I think you really ought to know-"

"Sirius," she stopped him by turning abruptly and holding a hand up so her delicate fingertips barely brushed against the stiff fabric of his robes. He came to a stop, facing her, and their eyes locked. He could sense the pain shining through her emerald eyes, hard as she might have tried to mask it, and Sirius felt a sorrow wash over him so heavy he wasn't sure he could still breathe for the weight of it against his chest. Offering him a weak half-smile, "It's really alright. I understand. I was there with him at the lake. I felt it, too… I know what you're going to say and, trust me, I understand it. I waited too long to say those things he needed to hear me say."

"But about Ame-"

"Mmm!" she closed her eyes, sharply drawing her chin down against her chest.

And Sirius was silent, accepting that this wasn't a subject she cared to address further. He reached out and placed a hand on her delicate shoulder, having been overcome with the need to touch her, to make sure she was real and that this moment shared between them had actually occurred. It was a comforting gesture. His lips parted, as though he were about to try and speak again, but he stopped himself, instead drawing a deep, thoughtful breath.

"You'll understand, Sirius, this conversation is best kept between us?" her voice barely above a whisper. But the pleading tone hadn't gone unheard by the charming raven-haired Marauder.

He nodded, beginning to understand, perhaps for the first time, just what it was his best mate found so infuriatingly attractive in the young woman who stood before him. She was exasperatingly difficult to reason with, impossible to resist with that frustratingly logical sense of self- preservation; it was maddening, addicting. Sirius Black understood that if he loved James in any capacity at all that he would honor this request she had made of him. He'd protect her honest vulnerability, her blind trust that his motives in chasing after had been pure. He would keep this secret for her.

Sirius knew that he could never share this moment with James Potter.

Brushing a strand of auburn hair like liquid fire behind her ear, the raven-haired boy smiled sadly down at the girl before him, feeling electricity in his fingertips as a result of the tension that settled between them. His voice was soft, "Your secret is safe with me, Lily Evans. I give you my word."

She nodded, turning away from him in one swift movement. The faintest "thank you" fell behind her on the breeze.

He watched her retreat, bleeding into the crowd. His heart was racing as he pushed his hands into the pockets of his trousers. He wasn't able to shake the sense of urgency, knowing he was about to lose her.

"Oi! Evans!" he called after her, just before she had gone completely from his sight. "He deserves to hear it from you. You owe him as much."

She paused, looking at him over her shoulder through her peripheral vision. Lily lowered her chin in a silent acknowledgement before she turned and disappeared from sight.

Sirius turned back in the direction from which he had come, hands still in his pockets and his eyes trained to his feet.


End file.
